


You Still Feel Like Home

by caramelle



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Porn with Feelings, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:16:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelle/pseuds/caramelle
Summary: It's only when his tongue is tracing hotly across the parted seam of her mouth that she pushes back from him again, hands braced on his shoulders. "I still don’t forgive you," she tells him, her voice sparking with heat. His gaze hones in on hers, as hard as she’s ever seen him be with her. "You shouldn’t."He doesn’t say it, but she hears the words, loud and clear.    I don’t forgive me, either.  Or, a modern, non-supernatural take on the La Llorona torture scene, featuring Seth and Kate as bitter exes (and no torture).





	

**Author's Note:**

> me: lmao nah i don't really write for any pairing other than bellarke
> 
> also me: *sits down and writes over 6k of sethkate angst, most of which is s m u t*
> 
> goodnight and goodbye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When she opens her eyes, she’s in the old RV.

 

It’s exactly the same as she remembers it from countless family vacations and road trips: cramped and worn down, paint chipped and peeling on each wall, cluttered up with old blankets, magazines and used mugs. Always so cluttered; always so much _stuff_.

 

She looks around — for her dad, for Scott, for her _mother_ — but there’s no one else. She’s not even sure if the RV is moving.

 

Trying to regain her balance, she crosses the few feet over to the driver’s seat with unsteady steps. Slipping awkwardly into the chair, she rests her hands on the steering wheel, looking up to try and figure out where she is.

 

Nothing. Just… _empty_.

 

She blinks, and then all of a sudden, she’s on a wide open road, the RV rolling along at sixty miles per hour. She looks down — at her hands on the wheel, at her feet on the gas pedal.

 

She’s _driving_ it.

 

And then the pounding starts up.

 

She glances up into the rearview mirror. Nobody. Nobody in the RV but her.

 

She looks out the windshield, and checks her side mirrors too. Nothing outside the vehicle either.

 

All the while, the pounding grows louder, and _louder_ , until it’s all around her, hollow thunder practically throbbing against her very skin.

 

“Go away,” she mutters, pushing her hair back from her face so she can see the road.

 

The pounding doesn’t let up, hammering away on every single one of her senses.

 

“Go _away_ ,” she repeats, raising her voice so she can hear herself over the sound. She squeezes her eyes shut, takes both hands off the wheel to cover her ears.

 

 _Go away!_ she yells — but there’s no sound from her lips.

 

Her world moves, tilts over sideways as if balanced on some invisible axis — and then swivels all the way upside down into black.

 

Slowly, her eyelids flutter open.

 

She’s curled up sideways on her couch. The TV is still on, the Netflix homepage staring blankly at her, waiting for an instruction.

 

Something is _still_ pounding — but it’s at her front door, _real_.

 

She frowns, pushing herself up off the couch, small grunts escaping her lips with the unexpectedly sizeable effort. Standing to her feet, she runs a hand through her thick, unbound hair, still damp from her shower an hour ago, and turns towards the door.

 

“Coming.” She winces slightly at the hoarseness in her own voice, clearing her throat as she starts towards the door.

 

The pounding doesn’t let up.

 

Her brows draw sharply together, and she quickens her pace the closer she gets to the door.

 

She grabs at the door knob, twisting roughly. “I said I’m _co_ —”

 

She’s left staring, all the breath knocked out of her.

 

“What are you _doing_ here?”

 

Seth Gecko shoves past her, striding into her apartment before she can even blink. “Are you alone?”

 

“Hey, you can’t— _hey!_ ” She takes one step after him, and halts sharply, turning back to close her apartment door before taking off after him. The back-and-forth movement sends her dark hair whipping about her face, and she brings up a hand to rake it out of her eyes. “Seth, what the _fuck_?”

 

There’s the sound of a door slamming, and heavy footfalls down the hallway, and then he appears in her living room, shoulders pulled up tight underneath the jet black material of his suit, dark eyes darting about restlessly. He turns a half-circle in the middle of her living room, his gaze roving over the remains of her last hour — from her TV, with the Netflix homepage still displayed onscreen, to her coffee table, upon which sits an open packet of the dark chocolate-covered dried cranberries she always stocks up on, and a half-empty mug of tea, now gone cold.

 

“Did you come home alone?”

 

“That’s none of your business,” she snaps tersely, crossing her arms over her middle. “You need to leave, _now_.”

 

He paces a couple of steps before wheeling about, the open jacket of his suit flapping sharply against his body with the motion. “Did you bring him home with you?”

 

She shakes her head in disbelief, trying to blink the white hot rage out of her eyes. “I said, that’s none of your _business_. Get _out_.”

 

“ _Did_ you?” he barks louder, his dark gaze still travelling wildly over everything in the room but her.

 

She stares at him. “You don’t get to _ask_ me that.”

 

Silence rushes into the room, filling up the entire space within a heartbeat. It’s a hard silence — the kind that presses against her head, and makes her shoulders pinch together, her small frame pulling in against itself.

 

“Kate.” He takes one small step towards her. “Kate, I— I can’t—”

 

“You can’t _what_ ,” she bites out, the anger flooding through her in a heated rush, the dam broken. “You can’t run into me at a bar without ruining my date? You can’t break up with me, and _then_ accept me seeing other people? You can’t walk out of my life, and leave me the fucking _courtesy_ of being free to _live_ it?”

 

The only sound left is that of her own breathing — harsh, and erratic. The way only Seth Gecko has ever been able to make it.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

It’s rough. And soft, and quiet, and _broken_.

 

But she looks at him — _still_ staring at the floor — and her heart hardens, and splinters in her chest.

 

“I don’t forgive you.”

 

His lips part, eyes flashing with surprise, but also hurt.  _Good,_ she thinks viciously.

 

“Kate,” he says, his tone entreating. “Please— _please_ , I need to—”

 

“Leave me alone,” she finishes, edging her voice with a note of steel. “You need to leave my apartment, and leave me _alone_. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Isn’t that why you _left_ , Seth?”

 

He swallows. “Just let me explain—”

 

“Why should I?” she interrupts harshly. “It’s not like you were much interested in explaining _fuck all_ to me a year ago.”

 

“I _couldn’t_ ,” he says, his voice rising with agitation. “Listen to me — you were better off not knowing about it—”

 

She scoffs, sharp and scornful. “That’s what you decided, is it? _You_ make plans about _my_ life, _for_ me?”

 

“I was trying to _give_ you a life!” he half shouts, hands gesturing sharply.

 

“I already _had_ a life!” she exclaims, heat pricking at her eyes. “I _had_ a life, _with you_. And you _took_ that away from me — from _us_!”

 

Suddenly, he drops down onto the wide arm of the armchair. She watches him scrub a hand over his face, his shoulders drawn up tight.

 

“They were gonna go after you.”

 

Her breath hitches in her throat.

 

It takes her a good five seconds to unhitch it. “What?”

 

He exhales, none of the tension in his shoulders releasing with his breath. “Carlos found out about you. About us. He was going to—” He breaks off, burying his face in his hands once more.

 

Kate blinks. “I don’t understand,” she says slowly. “I thought— you said Carlos was dead.”

 

“We thought he was. Richie and I, we—” Seth breaks off, sighing wearily. Suddenly, he pulls his hands away from his face, inhaling sharply before dropping his gaze to stare at the floor, cementing into something dark and unyielding. “Doesn’t matter. He is now.”

 

Her mind goes completely blank. She stands stock still, struggling to process the information.

 

She’s never really known much about Seth’s old life pulling dangerous jobs for large mobs and cartels. He’d always been reluctant to go into specifics. But she _had_ known about Carlos — ruthlessly ambitious, unyieldingly merciless, unapologetically bloodthirsty; barely _human_.

 

She fidgets, taking one step towards his hunched over form. “Are— are you okay?” She swallows. “You and Richie, I mean.”

 

Her brows furrow, a shadow crossing her face as a thought rears its ugly head, a hundred times more terrifying to her than it should be. “He didn’t _hurt_ you, did he?”

 

He doesn’t look up. “Richie’s fine.”

 

She presses her lips together, a knot clenching in her gut even as she takes another step forward. Her bare feet are just inches away from his leather-encased ones. “And you?”

 

“Kate.” He shakes his head. “There’s nothing that Carlos could do to me that would hurt.”

 

 _That’s not an answer,_ she bites back silently.

 

Instead, she draws a shaky breath, her fingers digging into the skin above her elbows as she struggles to calm the violent churning deep in the hollow cavern of her chest. “Okay. Well, I’m— it’s good to hear that.”

 

Seth remains still, quiet.

 

She frowns. He’s clearly _heard_ her… and yet, something tells her he’s not _ignoring_ her.

 

So she waits, the knot in her gut drawing tauter by the second.

 

“He knew.”

 

She stays silent. Waits quietly for more.

 

“He knew,” Seth says slowly, “that the only way he had any chance at hurting me was you.”

 

His words clang against her eardrums; pulsing, like waves against a sandy shore. It takes her a few moments, and a bit of conscious effort, but she regains control over her powers of speech.

 

“Well,” she says, in a tone that’s not quite as breezy as she’s aiming for, “I guess I should feel better about myself, then.” She huffs a bitter laugh. “I mean, if you managed to fool even a great, nefarious _drug lord_ into thinking that you—”

 

“Kate.” His head is raised, ever so slightly, but he’s still not looking at her. “That’s not why I ran.”

 

She swallows, her chin jutting out in defiance before she can really help it. “Why did you, then?”

 

And finally, _finally_ — his eyes meet hers, dark and stormy.

 

“Because he was right.”

 

She gives herself about one full second to think about what she’s doing.

 

And then she takes one last step forward, bringing herself in between his wide-planted legs, her hands curving around his face to turn it up to hers.

 

“You asshole,” she mutters, right before her lips descend on his.

 

She’s not sure what kind of sound it is that Seth makes. A moan, perhaps — relief. A groan, maybe — desperation.

 

Whatever it is, he instantly slumps _into_ her, his arms going around her so his hands can flatten across her back, steadying her so that she stays pressed up against his body even though he’s leaning his weight into her.

 

She pulls back, already breathless even though the kiss can’t have lasted more than a few seconds.

 

“I mean it,” she gasps, her forehead pressed to his even as one of his hands comes up to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling into her hair. “You _are_ an asshole. A huge one.”

 

“The worst,” he agrees raggedly, his grip tightening on her chestnut locks as he surges forward for another kiss.

 

She lets herself be pulled in, the distance easily closed thanks to his half-seated position on the arm of the chair. Vaguely, hazily, she recalls what it felt like to have to strain to reach him, arms raised high to hook around his neck, pushing up on the tips of her toes to make up for the difference in their heights.

 

It’s only when his tongue is tracing hotly across the parted seam of her mouth that she pushes back from him again, hands braced on his shoulders.

 

“I still don’t forgive you,” she tells him, her voice sparking with heat.

 

His gaze hones in on hers, as hard as she’s ever seen him be with her. “You shouldn’t.”

 

He doesn’t say it, but she hears the words, loud and clear.

 

_I don’t forgive me, either._

 

She swallows the lump that rises in her throat, stepping closer between his spread legs to press fully against the length of his body. “You should stop telling me what to do.”

 

“And you should never stop telling me what to do,” he says, the band of his arm tightening around her waist. They’re completely flush against each other; she can feel the distinct shape of his hardness jutting against her, right above the waistband of her sleep shorts.

 

She trails a hand down over the lapel of his jacket. “You’ve never listened before.”

 

His gaze darkens as she pushes at the garment, and he relinquishes his hold on her for the two seconds it takes them to get it off his shoulders, his arms returning to wrap around her the moment he’s rid of it. “I’ll start practicing.”

 

She shudders, goosebumps spreading across her skin where his hands slip under her thin tank top, the rough spread of his fingertips fanning fire across her lower back.

 

“Good,” she manages, her fingers curling into his hair to bring their lips together for another heated kiss.

 

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, she closes her eyes, and loses herself in Seth Gecko.

 

She grips onto the roughened texture of his short hair, tugging sharply so that he moans hotly into her mouth, before moving down to yank at the knot of his tie. Once she’s worked that off, she starts on the buttons of his shirt, deliberately taking her time on the first three so that he growls frustratedly against her lips, his tongue swiping hungrily against hers.

 

Pushing the shirt off his body entirely, she slides her hands over his bare skin, relishing the feel of his shoulders and chest under her fingertips — broad, hard planes of heated skin and sinewy muscle, pulsing and throbbing reflexively under her touch.

 

His mouth moves down to her jaw, and then to her neck, nipping softly at the patch of skin directly under her ear — the precise spot which he’s well aware always makes her mewl, and arch against him urgently. When she gives him the exact reaction he’s looking for, he groans, rough and low, right before his lips attach to her neck, tongue swirling hot circles as his teeth sink lightly into the soft skin. It’s more than enough to make her gasp, her hands abandoning his belt buckle to grapple at the hard curve of his shoulders.

 

“Seth,” she moans, another sharp gasp torn from her throat at the feel of his hands sliding down to cup the roundness of her ass, pulling forwards with one firm, decisive motion so that she rubs up against his covered cock, _right_ where she needs him. “Oh God, _Seth_ , I—”

 

“What do you need, princess?” he murmurs, pausing to lave soothing stripes across her skin with his tongue. “Come on, Kate. Tell me what to do.”

 

“ _Touch me_ ,” she just barely manages to get out, writhing against his hardness. Blindly, she reaches out with one hand, closing it around his wrist to tug it back up. She brings it in between them, settling his hand on her breast, her nipples already straining through the thin cotton of her tank top. “I want you to touch me, _here_.”

 

He groans, swaying towards her as his palm closes over the globe of her breast, fingers flexing as if unable to help themselves. “ _Fuck_ , baby.”

 

He tips forward, his other hand on her ass hitching her up and closer so his mouth can reach her. Planting a single, open-mouthed kiss on her nipple, he sighs, the warmth of his breath flooding across the hardened peak and sending shockwaves through her system, even through the material. “You want my mouth on you, princess?”

 

She nods, watching desperately as he gently brushes her hair over her shoulders, out of the way. “Yeah— yeah, I want your mouth— oh, _fuck_!”

 

His mouth is _on_ her. Sucking, licking, biting, engulfing her in wet heat, working her higher and higher — all through her thin cotton tank.

 

She keens, treading restlessly from the toes of one foot to another in an impossible attempt to get even closer. “Seth— _fuck_ , _Seth_ —”

 

He hums around her breast, his hand sliding back down to curve around her ass; and then suddenly, she’s hoisted up into the air, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips for fear of falling.

 

It’s just a couple steps over to the couch, but she grinds against him every inch of the way, rubbing and writhing like she can’t possibly get close enough. She feels like she’s slowly being driven mad — and yet, somehow, at the same time, slowly being put back together again.

 

He lowers himself down onto the couch, pausing slightly to give her time to arrange her legs so they aren’t crushed between him and the cushions. She rolls her hips into him, her covered core coming into direct contact with his hardness thanks to their new position, and he groans, tearing his mouth away from her breast to press his forehead into the valley of her cleavage.

 

She rolls her hips again, catching a glimpse of his hands clenching into the hem of her tank top at her sides, the material caught in each of his fists.

 

“Take it off,” she whispers, her lips brushing over his ear. “I want to feel you.”

 

He wrenches the top off her within milliseconds, one hand curving securely around her bare hip while the other cups her neglected breast, kneading slowly.

 

“You are,” he breathes into her neck, in between kisses dropped to the bare expanse of her skin, “the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

 

It makes her smile, her face turning into his temple as if hiding from some invisible spectator.

 

It makes her smile, not because she’s moved, or touched.

 

It makes her smile, because she knows for a fact that for Seth Gecko —master thief, one half of the infamous _hermanos Gecko_ , a man responsible for looting some of the most precious, invaluable treasures in the world — she knows that for him, it’s not true at all.

 

But he’s _here_. He’s here, back in her arms, and she’s back in his. He’s here, and touching her the way _she_ wants him to, letting _her_ touch him the way she wants to — and she knows that it’s not true, but he means it anyway, with every fibre of his being.

 

She dips her head, searching his lips out with hers for one more fiery kiss — and then she pulls back, pushing back off the couch to stand before him, bare from the waist up.

 

“Take your pants off,” she says, her voice steady even if her breathing isn’t.

 

He watches her, his eyes hot and heavy on her face as his hands fumble with his belt buckle. His feet move along with his hands, kicking his shoes off carelessly just in time for his buckle to snap free. He lifts his hips, pushing his pants down and off his legs, and his boxers along with them.

 

She looks at him for a long moment — sitting on her couch, completely naked, his thick cock standing at full attention between his legs — and her thighs clench together in heady desire.

 

She takes one small step forward, bringing her right in between his spread knees.

 

“And now me,” she breathes, the tone of command in her voice clear nonetheless.

 

He shifts forward so he’s sitting right on the edge of the couch, his cock pointing up and directly towards her. Lifting his face so that they don’t break eye contact, not even for a second, he brings his hands up slowly, his large fingers closing over her cloth-covered hips with a gentle firmness. It’s _reverent_ , almost, the way he looks up at her as he curls two fingers into the waistband of her sleep shorts — first the left hand, and then the right.

 

He draws her shorts down, but then stops right at the tops of her thighs, the waistband stretched around her legs right under the spot where her crotch ends.

 

Her gaze darkens as she watches him pitch forward agonisingly slowly, his nose bumping lightly against the wet patch spreading across her underwear.

 

He guides her thighs further apart, nudging her gently with a hand so she widens her stance, just a couple of inches or so. Her breathing hitches as his dark eyes find hers once more — and then he leans forward, his mouth descending to drop one lone kiss on her covered mound, _right_ on the exact spot where her clit is throbbing under her panties.

 

At her sharp gasp, his head draws back, his fingers curling into her underwear to bring it down her legs along with her shorts. His movements are slow, and careful, and he takes his time helping her step out out of the garments, one foot at a time.

 

She holds herself still once she’s completely bare, letting his gaze rove slowly over her body from head to toe.

 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters, his thumbs working circles into her hips, both soothing and stoking the molten heat roiling inside of her.

 

She allows herself a soft smile, before moving forward to straddle him once more.

 

Sitting in his lap with her knees braced on either side of him, she leans in for another kiss. She can sense him, thick and hard, just _inches_ away from her soaked core — but she doesn’t give in just yet, focusing all her attention on the dance their tongues are weaving together, urgent and heated.

 

He gasps against her lips when they pull apart, his breaths falling in ragged rushes against her mouth.

 

“Tell me what to do, Kate,” he begs, his fingers digging into her waist.

 

She runs a hand through his hair, letting her nails drag slowly across his scalp before dipping her head so she can nip at the skin just under his jaw. She drops another kiss, and another, until she reaches his ear. She turns her face, pressing into him so her breath flutters hotly over his ear as she whispers her answer.

 

“You know what to do.”

 

With a half-strangled groan, his arms band around her — and then they’re moving, him pivoting her about like she weighs nothing, flipping them over so they’re lengthways on the couch. He presses her back into the cushions, their lips moving urgently against each other as he settles between her legs. She can feel him, _really_ feel him now, hard and heavy against her dripping centre.

 

She reaches down to curve a hand around the length of him. He follows the movement, tracking it with a dark, heated gaze. He groans when she wraps fully around him, the contrast of her small hand around his thick cock too much for him to take. His forehead drops to her collarbone as his hips surge forward, thrusting helplessly into her hand.

 

“Shit, Jesus, _fuck_ ,” he mutters into her skin in between ragged breaths as she pumps him slowly, her thumb flicking over the mushroom head of his cock to collect at the arousal beading there.

 

She arches on the couch, pulling her other hand free from where it’s trapped between their bodies to bury it in his hair.

 

“Look at me, Seth,” she breathes into his ear.

 

He groans again — more of a whine than anything, low and urgent, his forehead dragging hard across her clavicle before he lifts his head, letting himself be pulled up by her hand in his hair.

 

She forces herself to stare deep into his eyes, pupils blown wide in his heightened state of desperation.

 

Her blunt nails rake across his scalp — not harshly, but certainly not gently either. “Do you want me?”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” he groans, droplets of sweat already forming on his creased forehead. She knows it’s not really physical exertion, but rather exertion of willpower. He’s not used to taking a backseat when it comes to calling the shots, _especially_ not in the bedroom. Not that she’s ever had any _complaints_ , of course. After all, if there’s one thing Seth doesn’t ever fuck up at, it’s sex.

 

But still, the degree of restraint he’s been exhibiting so far is, frankly, rather impressive.

 

The realisation is sudden, but it’s stark. Right now, in this moment, spread out naked on her living room couch, under an equally naked Seth Gecko — she’s sort of _touched_.

 

She ceases her slow rhythm on his length, cradling it in her hand as her gaze finds his once again.

 

“I want you, too.”

 

She watches as his entire expression melts, his lower lip falling open as his dark eyes search hers urgently, almost despairingly — and she knows, without a doubt, that he’s heard the _confession_ in her tone. _All_ of it.

 

He shifts, moving all his weight over to one forearm so he can bring a hand up to curve round her face.

 

Brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, he looks down at her.

 

She looks right back at him — and it’s like watching a dying flame come back to life, flickering embers swelling back up to a roaring, steady flame within a single moment.

 

He leans down, closing the distance between them to brush his mouth against hers.

 

“You have me,” he whispers, his lips grazing hers.

 

Her mouth curves upward of their own accord, and then she’s pulling him in for a real kiss, a hard one, her tongue slipping out to meet his, all heat and wet friction. With her other hand, she tugs gently on him, bringing his cock back to her core so that it rubs right up against her soaked opening.

 

She gasps when his round head presses into her, thick and warm and _hard_. Her hand flies back up, grappling at his shoulder.

 

“Fuck— Kate, baby, you’re— shit, _fuck_.” He drops one hand to her hips, gripping hard to hold both of them still. He’s panting, but he leans in to press a kiss to her temple, and then another one to her jaw. “Are you—”

 

“I’m okay,” she manages, her fingers combing soothingly through the short bristles of his hair. “I want you to move now.”

 

He groans, the sound strangled, and presses forward, moving deeper into her.

 

He stills once he’s fully inside of her, groans torn from both their throats at the feeling of his hard cock engulfed by her wet tightness, warm and snug.

 

“Oh my _God_ ,” she moans, arching helplessly as she spreads wider, accommodating his size.

 

He laughs suddenly, his breath fanning over her neck. “Actually, it’s Gecko. Seth Ge—”

 

She rolls her eyes, slapping at his shoulder even as a breathless laugh is knocked from her too. It’s an old joke, way back from their first night together. Before that night, she’d only ever been with a couple other guys, so seeing Seth in all his full, naked glory for the first time had truly been something of an experience for her.

 

She’d gasped something along the lines of _‘oh God’_ , and he’d smirked his stupid smirk and said that same stupid line — _‘Actually, it’s Gecko. Seth Gecko.’_

 

That had been the first time she’d ever punched him. Granted, it was in the arm. But still, it was a real, full-on _punch_. (He’d worn the bruise on his bicep for _days_ afterward. He’d been so proud of her, too, showing it off to Richie and Freddie and whoever else.)

 

It’d also been the first time she’d truly realised that she was falling in love with Seth Gecko.

 

She flushes suddenly, remembering the way he’d rewarded her for the _‘motherfucking EXCELLENT slug, princess’_ by dropping to his knees in front of her, throwing her leg over his shoulder as he beamed up at her with glowing admiration.

 

She blinks herself out of her thoughts, where present-day Seth is shaking his head at her, a wry grin on his face.

 

“Never gonna let me get away with that one, are you?”

 

“Not on your life,” she shoots back with a smile, adjusting so her hips can better receive him.

 

His grin stretches wider, and he dives down for an enthusiastic kiss, his tongue dragging along the open seam of her lips and sliding into her mouth, his hips grinding slow, maddening circles into hers.

 

They’re both breathless again by the time he pulls back, but this time, it’s not from amusement.

 

“Good,” he whispers roughly, one hand drifting down to cup her ass. Squeezing the rounded flesh in his grip, he growls in appreciation before pulling upward, helping her angle herself towards him and inadvertently slipping even deeper into her pussy with a loud hiss. “Fuck, princess. You feel so fucking _good_.”

 

“Seth,” she says, struggling to infuse a note of command into her tone of need. “Move.” She fails somewhat, but she’s almost too far gone to care. “ _Please_ , I need you to—”

 

And all the breath rushes out of her lungs when he pulls back, slowly, only to drive back into her _hard_.

 

“Shit, _Kate_ ,” he gasps, his hand tightening on her hip. “I can’t—”

 

“Yes, you can,” she tells him, the dull edges of her nails digging into his scalp as she tugs his head up so they can look each other in the eye. “Come on, Seth. You want me, don’t you?”

 

At his jerky, urgent nod, she arches towards him, pushing up against his hips with her own. “You have me. You have me, Seth.”

 

He moans, broken and guttural, his head dropping to her shoulder once more before lifting again.

 

And then he starts to _move_ , thrusting into her with slow, steady strokes.

 

“Yes,” she sighs, letting her head drop back into the couch. “ _Yes_ , God, faster, Seth, _harder_ —”

 

With a strangled groan, he rears back up on his haunches, pulling one of her legs up to wrap around his waist as he presses her other thigh into the back of her couch, her foot dangling over the high edge of the backing. He starts up with a new rhythm — faster and harder, just as she’s asked, fucking into her again and again with heated fervour.

 

“ _Seth_ ,” she gasps, her eyelids flickering open. He’s watching her as closely as she’s ever seen him watch _anything_ , his dark eyes trained on her face, his brows knitted together over them.

 

She brings up a hand to cover one of her vigorously bouncing breasts, fingers kneading the soft flesh before plucking at her nipple, the same way he used to do.

 

A wicked thrill runs through her when his face contorts at the sight of her teasing herself, a thrill made all the more delicious when he releases one of her thighs to dip his hand between her legs. His thumb finds her clit within a split second, rubbing hard on the bundle of nerves with no preamble.

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moans, reaching up with her free hand to bury it in her own hair, tugging at her own chestnut locks — another favourite move of his during sex. She keeps the hand on her breast going, pinching and rolling the erect bud of her nipple the same way he likes to. “Oh God— Seth, baby, I’m so _close_ —”

 

“I know you are,” he says, his tone almost pleading as he drops back down to hover over her, first bracing his weight on his free hand, and then his forearm. The hand between her leg slides up, pressing flat over her pelvis as his hips thrust harder. “Shit, baby, I can feel you clenching around me— _fuck_ —”

 

She gasps when his thumb returns to redouble its efforts on her clit, her hand abandoning her breast to press against the arm of the couch above her head. “I’m— I’m going to—”

 

“Me too,” he tells her raggedly. “ _Fuck_ , Kate, I’m gonna come—”

 

Her leg tightens around his waist, her heel digging into his ass even as she struggles to keep her eyes open, her gaze locked on his. “Come with me, Seth. Come with me, oh, _fuck_ —”

 

With a strangled groan, he drives all the way into her, and their release finds them both in an instant.

 

Her body goes taut as his draws tight, hunching down over her sprawled out frame as he pushes helplessly into her once, twice, three more times. It takes her a good few seconds to realise that her mouth is stretched open in a silent scream, her fingernails digging harshly into the skin along his shoulder blades.

 

He sinks down on his shaky forearms, his broader frame practically smothering hers on her little couch.

 

She makes a small sound of protest when she feels him move to push up off of her, her arms tightening around him as her legs close around his hips.

 

“It’s okay,” she says reassuringly, her fingers raking soothingly into his scalp. “I don’t mind.”

 

He stills above her, shoulders stiffening before he turns his head, pressing a kiss to her temple, the skin there damp with sweat.

 

“I do,” he says quietly, maneuvering them about so that he’s on his back, with her body curled around his and securely wrapped in his arms.

 

She lets her eyes fall shut when he lifts his free hand to her face, combing stray locks of dark brown away from her forehead. She hums into his chest contentedly at the cool air drifting across her skin, still tacky with perspiration. He makes one last gentle pass through her hair, before slipping his hand back down to link his fingers with hers over his sternum.

 

They lay together for several long moments, just breathing each other in.

 

Seth takes a breath, and Kate can feel the sheer depth of it from the way her head falls and rises with his chest.

 

“I _am_ sorry,” he says. His voice is low, and it’s not pleading, but it _is_ sincere. “I know you don’t—” he pauses abruptly, and she can practically _feel_ his chest tightening under her head, “—I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I needed to tell you anyway.” His hand tightens around hers impulsively, and the curse he directs towards himself is low and barely audible, but she hears it anyway. He blows out another breath, his chest dipping and lifting sharply. “I should’ve talked to you before making a stupid ass decision.”

 

She’s quiet, letting the steady beat of his heart thud against her ear.

 

After a long moment, she exhales, her fingers flexing against his. “You’ve always made stupid ass decisions, Seth. Nothing and no one is going to change that.” She feels his body tense under hers, and she quickly tightens her grip, not letting him pull his hand from hers. “But you came back.”

 

Silence falls. A silence soundtracked only by the sound of his heartbeat, firm and rhythmic against her ear.

 

He exhales suddenly, a tightly coiled spring released. The band of his arm tightens around her waist, pulling her closer despite the fact that there’s not even a breath’s worth of space between their bodies. His face turns, lips pressing softly against the line where her skin and dark hair meet. “I’m always gonna come back to you, Kate.”

 

She blinks back the wetness pricking at her eyes, forcing herself to shrug off the unexpected wave of emotion with a lighthearted laugh.

 

“Good,” she says, her cheek curving against his collarbone with genuine happiness, “because you’ve got a _lot_ to make up for, Gecko.”

 

He growls, flipping her over onto her back in one smooth movement before his lips find hers, hot and heavy and demanding as his hands start to wander, re-learning the slopes and curves of her body with fierce urgency.

 

“In that case, we should really get started, shouldn’t we?” he murmurs into her neck, his teeth grazing teasingly over her flushed skin before his tongue dips out to lave hot circles over it.

 

She manages a breathless laugh, arching into his hand when it closes over the globe of her breast, its peak already stiff with arousal. “I thought we’d already gotten started.”

 

He shakes his head dismissively, his palm kneading over her soft flesh. “Nah. That one was a freebie. Sorta like a preview.”

 

“Try before you buy?” she asks cheekily, but the effect is ruined when her voice breaks on the last word, thanks to the gasp elicited by the tweak of his fingers on her sensitive nipple.

 

“There we go,” he says approvingly, suddenly hopping off the couch to scoop her up in his arms, both of them still stark naked. “Give the princess a gold star.”

 

“How about she gives you another punch in the arm,” Kate deadpans, trying not to smile and failing miserably as he heads down the hallway towards her bedroom, his even stride barely faltering despite the weight of her in his arms. “Or better yet, right in that pretty face of yours.”

 

“Aw, princess,” Seth chuckles, tossing her onto the bed and wasting no time in climbing over her, his legs bracketing hers. “You think I’m pretty?”

 

She rolls her eyes, unable to keep from grinning. “Sure, _now_ you choose to listen to me.”

 

He grins right back, astonishingly boyish and blindingly bright. “Like I said. I’m practicing.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> catch me over [on tumblr](http://caramelkru.tumblr.com) sobbing helplessly in preparation for the s3 finale


End file.
